


trying to make it home

by kingtumbleweed



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubbles, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingtumbleweed/pseuds/kingtumbleweed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat likes Jade because she takes control right out of his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trying to make it home

Nothing is ever such a relief as when Jade twists her fingers into your hair, right between your stupid horns, and pulls you face-first between her legs.  She locks her ankles behind your back and keeps you right where you need to be, and you do your best.  You always do your best--you're the _leader_ \--but you're always so tired of trying to move mountains built of hoofbeast shit; you just kneel down and let her steer and the tension slowly loosens between your shoulders the same way it builds up in hers. 

Human nooks are surprisingly similar to trolls', once you make it past the lack of bulge.  It's all folds of skin and salty-musky wetness, and the tiny little sheath and stiff little nub that makes Jade make tight little yips when you roll your tongue over it hard.  Between those bitten-down sounds and the rub of her free fingers against your horn, your own nook drips and throbs, and sometimes you touch yourself, wiggling your hand into your pants to stroke fingertips over your slit and the raw edge of your bulge sheath, but more often you just hold onto her thighs and do as you're told.

For all that you bicker, Jade seems to genuinely like you, which is difficult to understand-- _you_ don't like you and neither should anyone else with half a sponge.  But she's content to snap back and forth with you until you get tired and she kisses you and strokes your hair, or until _she_ gets tired and she kisses you and _pulls_ your hair.  She leaves your quadrants confused in an abominable bile and licorice slurry, but you have fuck-all else going on, and you're more than glad for this breath of respite.  It's a brief release on your pressure valve:  for a short, precious period, you have only one job and one person to worry about, and that person is pressing her brown thighs close around your head and squirming like she's trying to melt, and you've learned that if you slide two fingers into her nook right then, she'll come gasping and yelling, fists clenched in your hair and chest heaving.

You're always disappointed to wake up and find that you can't quite recall the smell of her.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not relevant context, but I'd like to share with the class that I wrote this in the bare hours of the morning while I was at the ER in near-crippling pain.


End file.
